Kindly Outspoken
by McPhantom
Summary: Liz Bennet is an outspoken columnist working in New York City. When she meets business tycoon Will Darcy, sparks fly. Modern P&P. Better than it sounds. Please R&R!


Okay, so the basic premise of this story is that Elizabeth is columnist who has criticized Darcy's multi-billion dollar corporation for its monopoly-like status. When they meet, sparks fly. Hahah. Better than it sounds. Starting off with K+, rating may change as the story goes on.

And, yes, the title is based on Kate Voegle's song Kindly Unspoken. Good song. Check it out.

AGES:

Elizabeth – 23

Jane – 24

Darcy – 27

Bingley – 27

Lydia – 17 [ Junior in HS ]

Kitty – 18 [ Senior in HS ]

Mary – 20 [ Soph in College ]

Caroline – 25

Also a side note: I know that 'Lizzie' is the common nickname for Elizabeth, but in this story, I want to do something a little different, so her nickname will be Liz.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of Pride and Prejudice.

_ - _ - _ - _

"Anyone home?" I said as I pushed open the solid white door of the apartment I shared with my sister Jane on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

"Hey!" Jane called from her seat on the couch. She was wearing her bookish black-rimmed reading glasses with a pair of white sweats, holding her red grading pen while she read through the quizzes of her fifth grade students.

"How was your day?" She asked, taking a brief break from grading to smile at me. I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottled water and then plopped down next to her on the couch.

"Fine." I replied, twisting open the cap and taking a swig, offering the bottle to her when I was done. She took it and sipped sweetly while I spoke. "It's getting to be crunch time, being only a week and a half before we go to the printer, but I'm feeling pretty confident about my story."

I work for an amazing magazine – Crash – a monthly publication that detailed the business, social, artistic and political happenings of New York City. It was one of those cool, artsy magazines that was under the radar enough to be exclusive, but appealing enough to relate to everyone. Writing there was like a dream come true. And even though the pay wasn't great, I didn't mind. I got to write columns about my take on elections, the stock market, newly published literature, or events going on around the city.

Jane, the single nicest person in Manhattan, and I'm convinced the entire empire state, was practically destined to work with kids. She was the eldest of five sisters (me being just one short year younger than her, and the three other ranging from the ages of 16 to 20), and always held a sort of motherly place in the house. And her sweet disposition made her the perfect candidate to work with the dwarfs, as I like to call them. She worked at Arthur Henry Academy, an elementary school on the Upper East Side that catered towards rich children of investment bankers and stock brokers.

"That's good to hear." Jane told me, her eyes turning back to the quizzes. I looked over. Fractions. Geez, those were a bitch when I was ten.

"How about you?" I asked, not wanting to watch Jane draw smiley faces on her students papers.

"Oh, fine. Nothing really exciting happened." She said, placing a "you're a star!" sticker next to a 100 percent. "Although, something did happen when I came home."

"And this something was…?" I asked.

"Well," She said, placing down her pen and turning towards me. "You know how finally someone is going to rent the penthouse upstairs?"

"Yes." I said. Of course I knew. The penthouse had been vacant since Jane and I moved into the building two years ago. It was insanely expensive, and the only people who could afford that kind of place were living a luxe life on the Upper East Side. Moving trucks had been arriving the past couple of days, dropping off the elusive leaser's belongings.

"And, today when I was coming home, I met the guy who was renting it. His name is Charles Bingley."  
"Bingley, Bingley, Bingley" I repeated. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"Bingley's? It's a chain of book stores in the Midwest, and he's moving out here to expand into the east. Their first eastern property is here in the city. Over by Saks."

"Oh right. I went there to grab some plane material after election night in Grant Park." I remembered. (A/N: I've always pictured Elizabeth as a democrat.)

"Well, I ran into him when I got home. He was rushing in, I held the elevator for him, we got to talking, and he was a really sweet guy. Not the way you'd expect him to be at all."

"Pompous, prideful, arrogant" I rattled off. "So then what happened? An elevator ride only lasts so long, Janey."

"Well, we were off the elevator at that point. We went up to the penthouse so he could show it to me."

"You saw the penthouse?!" I exclaimed. The penthouse was sort of like a mystical place that everyone in the building had heard of, but no one had ever seen. I had no desire to live there – too big and unloving, but I had a hankering to see it.

"Yeah. It was really gorgeous. Huge windows, great view. But anyways, he's having a housewarming party on Saturday night, and he invited you and I."

"Moi?" I asked, with fake French melodramatics.

"Of course, you, silly!" Jane exclaimed. "We talked for like 30 minutes. My roommate slash sister slash best friend was sure to come up at some point."

"Aww, you're sweet." I said. "Saturday?" I clarified.

"Yep. You're not busy, are you?"

"Nope. That's the day after my deadline. I'm free as a bird." I replied.

"Yay! I'm excited." Jane smiled to herself.

"Jane…" I said teasingly. "Do you like this guy?"

"I could…" She smiled again, and tucked a lock of golden blonde hair behind her ear.

"Janey!" I exclaimed. My sister, the sweetest, prettiest, most good natured person I've ever encountered in my entire life, unfortuneutly, hasn't had the best luck in love. Jane's last breakup was with a guy who she thought was a pediatrician, turned out to be a gay deli worker who needed a girlfriend to introduce to his dying grandmother.

"He's just so nice. And I don't want to sound shallow, but he's quite handsome too."

"Sweet, handsome, and rich. Sounds like mom's dream come true." I told her. "Speaking of which, she called today."

"Really?" Jane said. Not even talk of our tacky, money obsessed, matchmaker mother could wipe the silly grin off of her face.

"Yes." I said. "I got a fifteen minute lecture on how she doesn't understand that I don't have a boyfriend, since I'm living in New York City and working at such a respectable publication. She's positive that it's my personality that's driving the men away. Then she spent another ten minutes talking about how she doesn't know how much longer she's going to be around, and she'd like to see her grandkids before she dies."

"Before she dies?" Jane exclaimed. "She's fifty!"

"That's what I told her." I retorted. "Somehow she still thinks that she's on the brink of death and we're going to end up as spinsters."

"Honestly though," I continued. "I'm just glad I'm not the eldest. I usually only get two of these calls a month. You call two a week, at least."

Jane chuckled, and nodded in affirmation. "My last was on Sunday."

"But maybe she won't have to nag you about not having a man in your life for much longer…" I teased.

Jane giggled, and said "Stop it, Liz! I just talked with him for a bit. It's not like we're getting married."

"You're right, you're right." I said. "But still, I hope this guy is the one for you, Janey. You deserve to find happiness." After I spoke, I realized what I sap I sounded like and knew that I wouldn't be talking like this to just anyone.

Jane beamed, and I smiled back at her. If anyone deserved true love, it was Jane.

_-_-_-_

Please, please, read and review. I'm not sure if I'm 100% satisfied with the chapter, specifically the end. Wasn't sure where to cut it off. Please let me know your suggestions!!


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